


terrified by thoughts of getting close to you (justify my terror when we talk it through)

by jjhs



Series: just hold my hand (follow me over that sky) [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boxing, Alternate Universe - College/University, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Emotional Hurt, Heavy Angst, Kinda, M/M, Sequel, Violence, idk - Freeform, in hyuck's pov, mostly angst, the sequel to the markhyuck boxer au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-25 18:22:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20728706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjhs/pseuds/jjhs
Summary: “do you love me?”it’s not the question that hyuck’s expecting, not what he was expecting at all. he stops breathing, stops thinking all at once. he finally breathes in and everything hits him. mark’s question, the answer, the possible things he could say and the things he wants to.“you know i do.”or, lee donghyuck watches mark lee fall apart until he can't bear it any longer.





	terrified by thoughts of getting close to you (justify my terror when we talk it through)

**Author's Note:**

> i've been trying to write this sequel since june...sooo...it's finally hear. some of this was inspired really heavily after the comment darlingsyub left on the original. thank you for inspiring me to write this ending.
> 
> ALSO::: sorry it switches into present tense????? idk what happened it was probably the like two-month break i took from writing this lmao 
> 
> title: YOU TOO. by chase atlantic

“It stops here. With me and you. It ends with us.”  
— Colleen Hoover, _It Ends With Us_

mark lee turned ordinary things into extraordinaries. he touched something and it turned to gold. people like mark lee only came once in a lifetime. hence, why lee donghyuck realized being with mark lee did way more harm than good.

†

he wished he could explain the number of times he looked over at mark lee, face in the sun, and realized he was in fucking love with one person. mark lee was beautiful and he didn’t even realize it. he glowed in the sunshine, shimmered under the moonlight. he was...the best person lee donghyuck had ever met.

so, you can imagine donghyuck’s surprise when he showed up to the boxing ring and there was mark lee, ready to fight him. and, you can imagine his surprise when mark lee beat the shit out of him. well, donghyuck let him. he let him go at him with his worst, guns blazing, craving blood.

it hurt. it hurt like a son of a bitch. it hurt more than any other fight donghyuck has been in, maybe because mark was a good fighter, maybe as good as donghyuck himself. or maybe because mark relished in hurting him. 

when donghyuck limped off the ring, he saw how mark gloated in winning. or, well. he saw some of it, through swollen eyes before jeno and doyoung dragged him to their van and tried their best to patch him up so they didn’t have to take him to the hospital.

there were rumors, from other boxers who were around, that mark threw up after. but, those were just rumors. 

lee donghyuck decided then that he wouldn’t box another round, wouldn’t think about what happened on the ring ever again. wouldn’t think about mark lee ever again.

†

until, he realized what mark lee was really doing.

†

“he’s fighting,” jeno said to him, out of breath from running up the stairs because donghyuck’s elevator is a death trap.

donghyuck looked up from his textbook and notebook, twirling his pen with his fingers. “what?”

“NAPALM...he’s entered the tournament.” jeno looked at him, almost pleading with donghyuck to call mark. (which he had only been doing since their break up.)

“oh.” hyuck shrugged his shoulders. 

“he’s going to get hurt, hyuck! you know better than anyone that NAPALM kills.”

hyuck glared at jeno. “don’t.”

“don’t let him,” jeno murmured. “even you won’t fight in NAPALM.”

“i don’t control mark, he showed me as much,” hyuck sighed, shutting his books. 

jeno frowned. “...you never explained why you lef-”

“there isn’t anything to explain, jeno,” donghyuck does that thing he always does, turning inward on himself to avoid the conversation. 

“don’t you see, hyuck? you don’t want to be apart from him, but you refuse to talk to him?”

hyuck bit his lip. “i’m not talking to you about this.”

“well when are you going to talk about it? it’s eating you alive. i can see it. we can all see it.”

“just drop it, jeno. i can’t save him. he can’t save me. life isn’t this big, fucking fairytale you think it is. you need to grow up and realize shit never works out how you want it to.”

“i think you’re a coward,” jeno says, unamused (also, maybe a bit offended), “because you don’t even try to save what you really want. you give up the moment stuff gets hard. leave the second it all becomes too real.”

“no,” hyuck snaps, “i don’t give up when things get too hard. i give up when i realize there’s nothing i left i can do. you should too.”

hyuck turns back to his homework. jeno knows better than to argue.

†

NAPALM is a fight to the death, literally. donghyuck knows. so, why he’s sitting under a tree in a quaint little park instead of saving mark from the first round of NAPALM, he doesn’t know.

the trees around him are blowing in the wind, almost lulling him to sleep with their soothing noises. he wants to close his eyes, but he knows better than to do so. he just sees mark lee. smells mark lee. the fragile vanilla and ocean breeze freshener, with a little bit of pine and maple syrup even though he hasn’t lived in canada in years.

the smell has to be heaven on earth. he wants it to become a human presence, so that he doesn’t have to retreat to the back part of his closet and find an old mark lee hoodie, sniff it just to remember how good he was.

because mark lee was good in all aspects. not just how he fucking smelled but by how he looked and acted, how he cuddled at night and fought with determination. he was a hell of a boy.

he was the kind of person lee donghyuck wanted around forever.

forever is a long time. 

and, unfortunately, donghyuck is not the kind of guy meant to be around forever. not really.

boxing hurts, hurts so goddamn much he limped around for months and cried when he knew mark was sleeping. he hid it from mark, didn’t want him to ever see that part of him. the part of him that only woke up at night to draw blood from his opponents face and bruise their skin for weeks

it was a vicious cycle, a vicious life to live. 

he hadn’t wanted it at all, tried his hardest to stay out of it. but, family business runs lives, ruins them in fact. 

“donghyuck,” a voice rings out, catching his attention and it’s none other than na jaemin, hand intertwined with park jisung’s. “you’re missing the first round of NAPALM! you never miss it.”

jaemin is horribly right. he’s sat through the first round of NAPALM for almost his whole life, seen it and thrown up, watched it with horror. cried for weeks about it.

“not interested,” donghyuck shrugs his shoulders as though it meant nothing. he’s empty handed, phone having died an hour ago because he always forgets to charge it. 

jaemin lets go of jisung’s hand, rolling his eyes and squatting down to make eye contact with hyuck. “mark lee has you fucked up.”

“he’s fighting,” hyuck says, voice small, which it very rarely is. donghyuck is a loud person, personality bigger than most. but, sometimes for those few seconds, moments appearing once or twice, he’s someone else completely.

“i know,” jaemin murmurs. “and, he’s going to win.”

hyuck looks up from his fingers in his lap, but he can’t find the right words. 

“one day,” jaemin starts and quickly stops. he purses his lips. “...if he doesn’t win, he’ll die trying.”

hyuck settles on words. “i know.”

†

he’s been mia for about three days now, holed up in his brother’s old apartment that most of his friends have forgotten about, watching as the NAPALM tournament goes on.

mark is good. he always excelled at everything, didn’t matter what it was, he was good at it. boxing is no surprise.

every time hyuck sees mark win, his heart clenches and his stomach hurts. he did this to mark. he brought his upon him, ruined him in the worst way possible. maybe he didn’t put those bruises on mark’s skin, but he left the biggest one on his heart, and there is no healing it.

there’s only numbing the pain with more pain, canceling out the hurting with a different kind of hurting. recovering from broken bones is far less painful than trying to deal with a broken heart. donghyuck knows.

everyone can see it, the way mark walks in pain, breathes in pain, fights in pain. everything he does, he’s hurting and donghyuck wants nothing more than to walk into the ring and yell at mark to stop, but he knows better. he knows better than to tell a fighter not to fight.

rounds one, two, and three, hyuck winced every time mark was hit. he gasped, held his stomach in pain when mark went down in the ring and then eventually got back up. mark is a fighter through and through. even if it’s not in his blood, he sure as hell fights like it is.

donghyuck knows his rank, his reign over the boxing community, the power he has. he could sure as hell march into the rink and win NAPALM. he’s been boxing since he could walk. well before his father died, well after too. since his brother walked him to the rinks, since his brother didn’t. 

boxing is in his blood, whether he wants it or not. he is built by boxing, broken by boxing. 

the livestream is starting and he turns his phone sideways to see better. it’s blurry, horrible quality, and shaky, but it’s better than nothing. hyuck pulls the blanket to his neck despite the hoodie he stole from mark keeping him warm. 

mark steps into the ring, and, god, is he bruised in so many places, black and blue all over. 

hyuck wants to look away, stomach sick, but he can’t. not when the fourth round is about to start and mark has this look on his face that screams determination. 

the bell rings. and, hyuck can’t tear his eyes from the screen. not when mark is knocked down, not when mark is getting back on his feet, not when mark throws a punch and there’s a crack and his opponent drops to the floor, not when mark keeps going even as he’s down, not when the ref has to pull mark off of the kid on the ground, not when they raise mark’s broken wrist in the air signaling he’s won. not when mark lee steps off the ring, this big grin on his face like he’s accomplished something worth smiling over.

not when his heart jumps and swells and beats so hard when he sees mark look into the camera and smile softly, not when mark is walking away and he finally crumbles because his wrist is broken and his body is fucked up and he is hurting in more ways than one.

hyuck wants to throw up when his screen goes black because the live is over and mark is gone. whatever the hell happened, whatever the fuck he just watched, he can’t help but think about the truth of the situation. 

it’s all his fault. all. his. fault.

†

“you haven’t talked about him in awhile,” jeno mentions as they sit in his car, the older finally able to track hyuck down and dragging him out of the house.

“who?” hyuck asks and jeno chuckles. “mark?”

jeno shakes his head. “no, hyuck,” he sighs, “daesung.”

hyuck’s chest constricts, heart stopping just for a moment, air caught in his throat. 

silence. for just a few moments.

“there’s nothing to say,” hyuck murmurs, leaning against the cool window to try and calm down his racing heart. 

jeno takes a moment to find the right words, to say something that will hit hyuck hard enough to knock some sense into him. he finally whispers, “it’s been two years since he died in round five of NAPALM.”

hyuck closes his eyes.

“it’s been two years since he went into the rink and _died_,” jeno repeats, this time louder.

hyuck starts to cry.

“your brother, donghyuck. two years ago, daesung walked into that rink and never left.” 

“stop!” hyuck screams, sobbing into his hands. “stop. stop. stop. stop.”

jeno continues, despite hyuck’s begging, “we watched him, watched him jump into the ring, ready to go, and we watched him die, hyuck. we. watched. him. die.”

“no, no, _nonononono_,” hyuck can’t stop wailing in pain, hands balled into fists and punching jeno’s arms to make him just _shut up_.

“mark fights round five today,” jeno let’s a tear slip down his cheek, allows himself one moment of pain. “he’s going to walk into that rink and die, hyuck. we both know it.”

hyuck is so loud that he’s probably drawing attention to them. “please,” hyuck begs louder. 

“stop him,” jeno whispers, eyes screwed shut in an attempt to keep from crying. “please don’t let him end up like daesung, hyuck. please.” and, now jeno is the one begging hyuck. 

“you think i want him to die, jeno?” hyuck screams at the top of his lungs, throat hurting and nose filled with snot. “you think i’ve been sitting here hoping that i lose another person to this god awful sport? jeno, every single day i pray to whatever gods that are up there that mark survives another round.”

“why don’t you stop him?” jeno asks. he finally starts to cry, just as the rain picks up and starts to pour so loud he can’t hear himself think.

“because i killed daesung, i killed him!” hyuck is hysterical, body convulsing and turning in on itself. “i told him not to fight, i begged him not to fight. we fought before he went out there. he told me he wasn’t a fucking pussy and he fought, and he _died_. he went out there because i doubted him, and then he died. jeno, don’t you see? i killed him. it was my fault.”

jeno wipes his tears and then wipes donghyuck’s, turning to face him in his seat. “maybe daesung didn’t listen to you, but mark lee will. if you tell him the truth, all of it. if you tell him why you left.”

“he won’t understand,” hyuck takes a deep breath. “how could he? it’s all so fucked up. the way my dad boxed and died, the way my brother did the same. the way i will too. don’t you see, it doesn’t matter in the end. i’ll die boxing the way all of my family has. it’s better to leave mark to be than to let him be in pain over this fucking family buisness.”

jeno forces out a chuckle, tears still falling down his face. “do you even hear yourself? you’ve got to be a fucking idiot. why are you going to let him die like daesung, hyuck? why are you going to let him go out there and get killed!”

“because,” hyuck shouts, hitting his hands against the dashboard, “because i can’t be the reason he dies! i can’t tell him not to fight just for him to go out there and die. i-i-”

“you are already the reason,” jeno says shortly and it’s the bluntest jeno has ever been with hyuck in his entire life, “you are the reason he’s boxing. you are the reason he’s fighting in NAPALM, and unless you stop him, you will be the reason he dies too. to hell with everything else, to hell with what you think will happen if you try to stop him. to hell with it all. you are always the reason, hyuck. and, you might be the reason he lives through this after all.”

†

his hand trembles as he dials the number he hasn’t called in so long. the anticipation of hearing mark’s voice is making him feel lightheaded. he doesn’t know what he’s going to say, if mark will even answer him. he doesn’t know anything. all he knows is that round five is in thirty minutes and if he doesn’t at least try, he won’t be able to live with himself.

he finally presses call. the phone rings. and, rings. and, rings. it rings so long, donghyuck sinks to the floor, head hitting the wall of his bedroom with a thud. he drops his phone on the floor, silently begging mark to pick up. 

he thinks it’s going to voicemail when he suddenly hears a weak, “hello?”

hyuck can’t pick the phone up fast enough. can’t with his shaky hands and sweaty palms. he’s quiet.

“donghyuck,” his name sounds so good when mark says it, voice raspy and deep, “is that you?”

“what the fuck are you doing?” hyuck doesn’t mean for it to come out at all, let alone so exasperated. 

mark is quiet. “why does it matter to you? why are you calling me, donghyuck?” 

“because you almost killed me,” hyuck confesses, voice unstable as shit. “because you almost killed me and now you’re going to die.”

“i almost killed you,” mark repeats and hyuck doesn’t know why. “i almost killed you, hyuck.”

“i know!” hyuck doesn’t know why he’s yelling, but he is. “i know! i know! i know! you almost killed me.”

the words sit between them like a brick wall. it feels like it’s finally hitting them both. hitting them harder than it should.

“i should hate you,” hyuck’s hands ball into fists, nails digging so hard into the skin that they leave crescent moons. “i should let you go out there and get beat within an inch of your life. but, here i am begging you not to instead. this NAPALM shit, whatever you’re doing, what are you trying to prove? are you trying to prove something to me? something to you? something to your friends? huh? what is it!”

hyuck is sobbing and can barely hear mark over the sound of his own crying.

“you know what i’m trying to prove,” mark says. 

“don’t go out there,” hyuck begs and he hates how weak he sounds. but, he figures mark has had his life in his hands, he already knows how weak donghyuck is for him. weak enough to let him beat the shit out of him. weak enough to let mark hold his heart in those hands of his and crush it. he broke mark’s heart, and mark sure as hell broke his. “don’t fight. please don’t.”

mark is silent. completely and utterly silent. hyuck’s stomach turns and his heart races, beating so hard he thinks it’s going to fall straight out of his chest. he pulls his knees to his chest and hopes that mark says something, anything.

“do you love me?”

it’s not the question that hyuck’s expecting, not what he was expecting at all. he stops breathing, stops thinking all at once. he finally breathes in and everything hits him. mark’s question, the answer, the possible things he could say and the things he wants to.

“you know i do.”

it’s mark’s turn to let his mind churn over hyuck’s answer.

“will you tell me something?” 

hyuck hates mark’s questions. he hates that he doesn’t know what mark is going to ask of him, hates that he knows he’ll probably do whatever mark wants of him. he’s always been weak for mark, the older always having a soft spot in his heart. he doesn’t know why or how it happened, how one day mark wormed his way into his heart and made a home there. 

“what?” hyuck says back.

“tell me,” mark breathes out, breath heavy, “tell me those three words. tell me the three words you haven’t said in so long, lee donghyuck. whether it’s true or not.”

hyuck is silent. the room is silent. his body is too confused by all of what’s happening. his mind is telling him not to, that if he says it, there’s no taking it back because they both know it’s not a lie and there are so many complications if he says it. and, his heart is begging him to just give in, to just say it and say it like he fucking means it because he’s just so tired of overthinking, of sitting and crying, of being the shell of the person mark made him all those months ago. 

“i love you. i love you, mark lee.”

“thank you.” 

the line goes dead.

†

“he’s alive,” yukhei says the moment donghyuck steps into the hospital. “unconscious but alive.”

hyuck cries in relief, heart rate finally starting to settle since the livestream ended an hour ago. “oh god.”

yukhei nods his head and lets hyuck collapse into his arms. he lets donghyuck cry all he wants, lets him do whatever he needs to do to feel better. 

hyuck thinks yukhei should hate him, doesn’t doubt that he does, but he is thankful when yukhei catches him. his legs are weak, knees quivering and giving out on him. 

“you don’t have any bruises,” yukhei comments, looking at donghyuck’s healed face. there are a few scars left behind, some probably from where mark hit him, but otherwise he looks pretty normal. 

“i stopped fighting after…” hyuck trails off and yukhei nods, still supporting all of hyuck’s weight. it doesn’t matter that they’re in a waiting room, that they’re surrounded by other people, that hyuck’s ex-boyfriend is sitting in a hospital bed almost dead. 

“why?”

hyuck shrugs. “you know why.”

“he didn’t mean to,” yukhei starts before biting his lip to stop himself. “h-”

“it’s okay,” hyuck murmurs, “he meant to, yukhei. he knew what he was doing. i know what he was doing. why do you think i lost?”

“you...you let him beat the shit out of you?” yukhei seems shocked, though he shouldn’t. hyuck could’ve easily put mark in the hospital, but he didn’t...that time at least.

“i owed him as much.” 

his words are so fucking sad that it knocks the air from both their lungs. the whole thing is fucked up. mark loving donghyuck, hyuck leaving him, mark almost killing donghyuck, hyuck letting him. though love can be horribly fucked up, but still work in some way shape and form, donghyuck can’t even see a future where him and mark make it.

mark’s love for hyuck turned into self-hatred and hyuck’s self-hatred turned into love for mark. hyuck ruined mark lee and mark lee saved lee donghyuck.

yukhei purses his lips. “you should go see him.”

hyuck shakes his head. “he doesn’t want to see me, yukhei. he doesn’t love me anymore. rightfully so.”

yukhei begins to laugh, begins to laugh so hysterically his stomach hurts and the people in the waiting room look at him like he’s a fucking psychopath. “you’re fucking with me. you have to be _fucking_ with me.”

“what?” hyuck furrows his eyebrows.

“you think mark doesn’t love you? you really think mark stopped loving you? the whole reason mark joined NAPALM was because of _you_. you, donghyuck. _you_.”

hyuck stops breathing. “no.”

“you’re both fucking idiots. fucked up fucking idiots. he wanted you to notice, hyuck. he wanted you to realize he was fighting so that maybe one day you would call him because he loves you so much.”

it’s so fucked up. god, it is so fucked up.

“why?” hyuck can’t help but ask, eyes pleading with yukhei to have an answer.

“you want so badly to be villain in his story—in _your story_—hyuck. but, what you don’t see is that you aren’t all bad. nowhere close. you broke his heart, but he broke yours too. he’s not blameless and you’re not to blame completely.”

“and what does it matter, yukhei? people like me and mark, we’re broken. what are we supposed to do?”

yukhei shrugs. “that’s up to you to decide, hyuck. whether you love him enough to stay with him after everything, whether he loves you enough to do the same. i don’t know what you’re supposed to do. i don’t think you’re _supposed_ to know rather than just try.”

“and if we try and fail?” hyuck pushes further, looking up at yukhei with a desperate, pleading look on his face.

“then you try and fail. i don’t know what’s going to happen. you don’t know what’s going to happen. mark doesn’t know. nobody knows. whatever happens, happens, hyuck.”

“i don’t like not knowing.”

yukhei smiles. “i think that’s the funnest part of it, the unpredictability.”

“funnest isn’t a word.”

“we better head in there. i don’t know when he’s going to wake up.”

†

hyuck is sitting on the most uncomfortable chair, in the middle of texting jaemin, jisung, and jeno about mark when the older finally moves. he hears the crinkle of the sheets and immediately looks up. he drops his phone on his lap next to his book.

they make eye contact. mark blinks once, then twice, then a third time. he goes as far as rubbing his eyes before he finally speaks.

“are you real?”

hyuck tries to keep from smiling, but the corners of his lips turn upward. “yeah,” he says softly, “i’m real.”

“how long has it been?” mark asks, throat dry and voice raspy as shit.

“about a week,” hyuck tells him truthfully. he stands up cautiously and walks over to mark. his legs are shaky and weak, but he tries his hardest to walk normally. 

mark nods slowly, eyes still foggy and head still groggy. hyuck pours him a glass of water and hands it to him. mark reaches out for it and winces when he finally notices the pain, looking down and seeing his arm in a cast. 

“oh.”

hyuck just nods and helps mark sit up slowly, placing an extra pillow behind his head. he holds the water to mark’s chapped lips. “drink, you need it,” he says and mark obeys without a fight.

he gulps down an entire glass and asks for more, which hyuck gives him.

he finally stops after the third cup, timidly pushing hyuck’s hand away. 

“a week?” mark repeats slowly. “really?”

hyuck nods. “yeah.”

mark takes a while to process it all. while he’s doing so, yukhei walks in with a doctor and hyuck tunes out what’s going on around him because it all just feels like too much. he still doesn’t know what’s going to happen after this. 

the doctor eventually leaves and yukhei pats hyuck on the back before slipping out the door and shutting it behind him.

mark is sitting on the bed, staring at the wall and hyuck is staring at him. he wants to speak so badly, but he doesn’t know what to say. he doesn’t know what he wants to say, what he should say. 

“guess my boxing career is over,” mark mumbles, a small, pitiful smile on his face.

“seems like the best decision,” hyuck shrugs, twiddling his thumbs.

mark purses his lips and then goes quiet again. nothing seems like the right thing to say, so he opts to say nothing at all.

“why are you here?” mark asks, finally working up the nerve to ask. he doesn’t know why he’s questioning the person he wanted so badly to be around, but after everything that’s happened it only seems right. 

“why do you think?” hyuck asks, raising an eyebrow.

“can we cut the bullshit?” mark snaps, surprising donghyuck. “for once, can we just be real with each other?”

“yeah,” hyuck’s head falls, shoulders sagging. “yeah, i guess i’m sick of the bullshit too.” hyuck takes a breath. “i’m here because you almost died, mark. probably did for a little bit there. but, you’re alive and i’m alive, and i’m horribly, irrevocably in love with you. so, that’s why i’m here, mark.”

the words take a moment for mark to register. 

hyuck feels like a thousand pounds have been lifted off his chest. he’s been wanting so badly to say those words for so, so long. and, now that they’re finally out in the open he feels so free. he doesn’t know what mark is going to say, what mark is going to do after this, but for once in his life he feels like he can breathe without choking.

“will you stay?” mark asks, not addressing what hyuck said at all. 

“yeah,” hyuck nods, walking over to mark. “i will.”

mark swallows hard. “good.”

hyuck is standing next to mark when the older grabs his hand and holds it tightly, almost to keep him in place. 

“you love me?” mark questions again, like he can’t comprehend the fact.

“yes, mark lee. i love you.”

mark nods his head like he’s finally accepting the truth, like he’s been trying to convince himself otherwise for so long he started to believe it. 

“i love you too, lee donghyuck.”

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know what to consider this ending. happy? sad? complete? open? i don't know at all and i think that writing is the best when even the author doesn't know. i like not knowing what happens to markhyuck. i like being able to imagine all the endings. the ones where they end up together and the ones where they don't. 
> 
> also, i just want to mention that hyuck's character is endlessly complex. his actions speak so loud for how fucked up he is and idk ... this just feels like i did an okay job at writing. idk i just feel...content with this? like it's so heavy and SAD, but ... i just feel like what i wrote is actually kind of ...good? 
> 
> this is the end of this series. thank you so much for reading!!!! this has been a long time coming. 
> 
> if you enjoyed please like/comment. it would mean so, so much to me!!
> 
> with love,
> 
> \- liv
> 
> [twit](https://twitter.com/flirtmarkno)
> 
> [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/marknohyuck)


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